A friend of mine posted a long and powerful anonymous piece on Facebook today reflecting on the current corona virus crisis. Titled "We Are Not in the Same Boat . . ." it begins, "I heard that we are in the same boat. But it's not like that. We are in the same storm, but not in the same boat. Your ship can be shipwrecked and mine might not be. Or visa versa."
Such an apt metaphor. For as we move through this crisis, it is really quite clear that we are experiencing it in varying degrees of challenge and discomfort. I am one of the fortunate ones, at least at this point. My ship is intact. I am able to work from home, for the most part. I have full access to digital technology, as this blog post demonstrates. I am receiving my full salary. To date, I have been able to avoid contracting the illness. While I have friends who have parishioners and friends who have Covid19, to date, none of them have died. And my family, while faced with a variety of challenges, is healthy. My ship is afloat.
But not so with so many others. I know folks whose boats have been roiled by the storms of illness and economic distress. I have a son who works for a major grocery chain, and daily confronts the reality that he is at the mercy of customers being willing to follow the simple rules about masks and social distancing that his company has laid out. I have a colleague who hundreds of miles away worries about her father in the hospital with Covid19, unable to visit him, knowing that she would not be allowed to see him even if she went north. I have an 87-year-old mother, with underlying conditions, who is being held "under lock and key." I have a sister-in-law with stage four lung cancer who is at great risk. These are challenges, these are concerns, these are genuine worries--but for now, my ship sails on.
Others though, have no income, no job, no ability to work from home, who must go to food pantries for the first time in their lives. There are so many healthcare workers who have not been given sufficient personal protective equipment and who risk life itself. Women, men and children, who have been unable to say goodbye to family members lying on their death beds. And then there are the sick themselves, struggling for every breath, knowing there is no known cure for this disease.
No, we are not on the same boat. But we are in the same storm. And so we who have managed to remain afloat, by the grace of God, or good luck, or good genes, or whatever, have an obligation to do what we can for those who have been cast adrift. Offer up our prayers on their behalf, yes, but also financially doing what we can to support the agencies and programs working on their behalf. Maintaining social distancing efforts of our own. Washing our hands. Wearing masks. Writing supportive notes. Offering help to the housebound.
No we are not in the same boat. But we are in the same storm--and so we must be watching for and reacting to the distress signals in our sight.
Particularly apt and compassionately spoken, and so, so true. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteI am well, I am safe, but we have a nephew whose 17 year old son and "IT" and I can feel the pain, and the suffering, and the frustration. When will this end? No answers to any of this...just pray and pray and pray...for everyone who is in this boat.
ReplyDelete